Slightly Scandalous (22 page)

"I must congratulate you both on the birth of your son," she said.

"Thank you, Freyja," Kit said. "And thank you for coming."

"We are so very delighted that you came home from Bath in time to join us today," the viscountess said-surely lying through her teeth.

"May I present the Marquess of Hallmere, my betrothed?" Freyja said. "Viscount and Viscountess Ravensberg, Josh."

"Lady Freyja's betrothed." The viscountess smiled with warm pleasure at Joshua. "How pleased I am to make your acquaintance, Lord Hallmere. And how happy I am for you, Lady Freyja."

She took one step forward and for a horrified moment Freyja thought she was about to be hugged. She raised her eyebrows and lifted her chin, and the viscountess hesitated and contented herself with another warm smile.

"Hallmere?" Kit shook hands with him. "You are a fortunate man. I hope you realize that you have won a treasure."

Freyja's knuckles itched as she curled her fingers into her palms.

"And Freyja." Kit set both hands on her shoulders. "I knew you would find happiness one day soon. My sincerest best wishes." He did not hesitate as his wife had done. He kissed her warmly on the cheek.

Fortunately dinner was announced at that moment and so there was no need to make further conversation. Freyja took Joshua's arm and smiled dazzlingly at him.

"What fun we are having," she murmured.

Joshua did not stay at Freyja's side all through the afternoon. It would have been bad form, and it seemed to him that once dinner was over the terrible tension he had sensed in her body earlier despite her smiles and seemingly perfect composure had dissipated. She was circulating among the guests, bright-eyed, poised, and sociable and looking remarkably fetching in a muslin dress with loose, floating skirts in varying shades of turquoise and sea green.

He was not at all sure she had not loved Jerome Butler very much indeed. Certainly today seemed very hard for her.

He mingled with the guests too for most of the afternoon. But eventually he sat down on the window seat in the drawing room beside the Earl of Redfield's youngest son, Sydnam Butler, who had been sitting there for a while. The man's right arm and eye were missing, and the right side of his face and neck were disfigured with the purple marks of old burns.

"War wounds?" Joshua asked.

"Right," Sydnam Butler said. "I was captured by a French scouting party when I was on a reconnaissance mission in Portugal. I was out of uniform."

Joshua grimaced. "It was my greatest fear for five years," he said. "I was in France doing some spying for the government, but in an entirely unofficial capacity. No commission, no uniform, no rescue had I been caught. You were not given the honorable treatment your uniform would have ensured, then?"

"No," Butler said.

They chatted for a while about the wars and about Wales, where the man was now living on one of Bewcastle's estates in the capacity of steward. Then Butler nodded in Freyja's direction-she was in a group with Rannulf and Judith, Lady Muir, and a Butler cousin whose name had escaped Joshua's memory.

"I am very glad indeed to see Freyja happy again," he said. "You are obviously good for her."

"Thank you," Joshua said. "Today has been something of a strain for her, though. I believe she must have been deeply attached to your brother when she was betrothed to him."

"Oh, they were never actually betrothed," Butler said. "When Kit came home last summer he brought Lauren with him as his fiancée, and there was an end of the match Bewcastle and my father had arranged." He paused briefly and Joshua was aware that he grimaced slightly. "I do beg your pardon. You were speaking of Jerome. Yes, of course. They were always fond of each other. But I would not worry if I were you. That was a long time ago, and she looks happy today. Very happy."

Ravensberg and his wife, who had been absent from the room for a while, came back into it at that moment. The viscountess was carrying the baby, no longer in his christening robe but wrapped cozily in a white blanket. Two little hands were waving above its folds. They proceeded to move from group to group, showing off their treasure while the ladies cooed and smiled over him and several of the gentlemen looked faintly sheepish.

They were a remarkably good-looking couple. And they were still in the throes of a deep romantic attachment to each other, if Joshua was not mistaken.

He also had not mistaken what Sydnam Butler had just said before he had realized his mistake. A marriage had been arranged for Freyja and the present Ravensberg. It made sense. If the two families had planned the alliance with the eldest son from the children's infancy, would it not be natural a suitable time after his demise to revive the plan with the second son as the projected husband? But the second son had brought home a bride of his own choosing and so had spoiled the plan.

Had it been deliberate? Had he known of the marriage his father and Freyja's brother were arranging for him? Had he-rather like Joshua himself in Bath-rushed into a betrothal with someone else in order to avoid a marriage he did not want? Or had he not known?

Either way Freyja would have felt spurned.

She would not have liked that!

What part of her being had been most hurt by the rejection? he wondered. Her pride? Or her heart?

Watching from his position on the window seat-Sydnam Butler had been drawn away by his father and a cousin-Joshua could see Freyja's smile become brighter as the couple and the baby approached her group. He could see her fingers flexing at her sides and one foot tapping a rapid tattoo on the carpet. The smile looked somewhat feline to him. She darted a look at the viscountess, who was not far from her now and who had just laughed with warm delight as she gazed down into the face of her baby. Freyja's look, brief as it was and quickly veiled as it was, was pure venom.

In a few moments more, the couple and their baby were going to be moving on to Freyja's group, and she was going to be called upon to admire the child. Judith was already beaming in happy anticipation of the moment and glancing a tender look at Rannulf.

Joshua got to his feet.

"Freyja." He touched her elbow, and she jumped as if he were holding a branding iron. "I see that a few brave souls are strolling out on the terrace. Would you care for a breath of fresh air?"

"I would love it," she said rather loudly. "I am going mad from inaction."

The weather had changed overnight. Yesterday had been almost like summer. Today was cold and gray and blustery, more like November than September. They wore their cloaks outside. Joshua pulled his hat down over his brow so that it would not blow away.

"I hope," Freyja said, "you are not expecting me to stroll with mincing steps along the terrace, Josh. I need to draw air into my lungs. Are not such gatherings unbearably insipid?"

She turned right to walk in the direction of the stables, and as soon as they were past the formal gardens before and below the house, she struck off across the lawn to walk parallel to the driveway. She moved along with her usual manly stride. Joshua fell into step beside her.

"Ah." She tilted back her face. "This is better."

He did not attempt to make any conversation, and she was clearly not in the mood. They walked until they reached the stone bridge that crossed a river and formed the boundary between the inner cultivated part of the park and the woods beyond. It must be later than he had realized, Joshua thought. Already early dusk was falling.

"What now?" he asked. "Back to the house?"

"Not yet," she said. "That party will go on for hours yet. No one knows when to end events like this."

"Where next, then?" he asked.

She looked about her. "There is the lake," she said, pointing to it over to their right. "But I do not fancy a swim today." She shivered as a cold blast of wind buffeted them.

"What?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows. "I do not get to see you in your shift again today?" More accurately, he had seen her in her wet shift yesterday, and it had been very akin to no shift at all. His temperature threatened to rise a notch at the mere memory.

"Let's go to the gamekeeper's hut," she said. "It is through there." She pointed into the woods to the left of the driveway. "It was actually more like a family retreat, since I can never remember any gamekeeper living there. But it was always kept in good repair. Perhaps we can light a fire there and be cozy for a while before going back."

It sounded good to him, Joshua thought, leading the way across the bridge.

They wandered about in the darkening woods for a while since it seemed she did not remember quite where the hut was. But she cheered up considerably even while she was searching for it.

"I spent several hours of a hot afternoon there once," she told him. "I was locked in and Jerome and Kit stood guard outside. They had kidnapped me. But the adventure got dismal for them when Aidan and Ralf refused to ransom me. When Kit finally went up to the house to try to steal some food from the kitchen, I yelled and swore so foully that Jerome let me out for fear that I would attract the attention of some wandering gardener. I dealt him a bloody nose, and then I went home and left a few bruises on Ralf and Aidan too."

"And you were never kidnapped again?" Joshua said, grinning at her. "Sweetheart, kidnapped maidens are supposed to weep and wilt and make their captors fall in love with them."

"Ha!" she said. "Oh, there it is. I knew it must be just here."

It was locked, but he felt above the lintel and she lifted a few mossy stones beside the door until she found the key. It opened the door so easily that he knew even before stepping inside that the hut must still be used. The interior was dark, but he could see in the faint light from the doorway that there was a small table against the far wall, and on it were a lamp and a tinder box. He fumbled around for a few moments until he had the lamp lit.

There was a fireplace with a fresh fire laid in the hearth and a box of logs standing beside it. There was an old wooden rocking chair with a faded blanket thrown over the back and seat. There was a narrow bed against one wall, neatly made up with blankets and a pillow. Everything was clean, including the dirt floor.

This, Joshua thought, was definitely someone's retreat.

Freyja stepped inside and closed the door. She stood with her back against it while Joshua knelt and lit the fire.

"Yes, this is it," she said. "My prison house."

"But a prison no longer, sweetheart," he said, straightening up and brushing off his hands before turning and stepping against her. He dipped his head and touched his lips to hers. "A haven instead. Soon to be a warm haven, I hope."

It was also a very private, secluded haven. A dangerous haven for a man and a woman who were trying to avoid having their betrothal extended into the life sentence of a marriage. He stepped back and indicated the rocking chair.

She unfastened her cloak, tossed it over the back of the chair, and sat down. He set his hat and cloak on the table and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"The big ordeal is almost over," he said.

She laughed softly, her eyes on the fire. "It would serve you right if I refused to release you after all," she said. "Am I really such a big ordeal? How lowering. You are, of course, but am I?"

"I was not referring to us," he said. "Tell me about Ravensberg."

"Jerome?" she said.

"Kit."

She turned her head to look at him. "What do you want to know about Kit?"

"Were you in love with him?" he asked.

"With Kit?" She frowned ferociously at him.

"Jerome was not the only brother you were betrothed to," he said, "or almost betrothed to. You were fond of Jerome. Were you fonder of Kit?"

She continued to glare at him. "It is none of your business," she said.

"I am your betrothed," he reminded her.

"You are not," she said scornfully. "And you are not going to play the part of jealous lover now, Josh. The very idea! It is none of your business whom I have loved or whom I do love, if anyone. Kit is none of your business."

"Did he know," he asked, "that you loved him?"

"Of course he knew," she said, turning her head back toward the fire again and then setting it back against the chair and closing her eyes. "He desperately wanted me to marry him. He wanted me to give up everything-all the expectations of his family and mine-and go follow the drum with him. I was everything in the world to him and he to me. But Wulf would not give his consent. I was one and twenty and did not need his consent. It was not that he forbade me exactly-Wulf rarely does that, and of course he knew that I would have fought to the death against any such attempt at tyranny. But there was a speech on family duty and I allowed myself to be talked into announcing my engagement to Jerome. Kit fought Ralf bloody when he came storming over to Lindsey Hall and was refused admittance. Then he went off back to his regiment in the Peninsula. Last year, with Jerome dead before our nuptials had been solemnized and Kit on his way home, his father and Wulf arranged for our marriage at last. But Kit had not forgiven me. He had his revenge on me by bringing home that perfect, insipid woman, Lauren Edgeworth."

Joshua wondered if she had yet realized that even if it had started out as revenge-or simply escape-the marriage was now a love match. And he wondered how much real love Freyja still felt for Ravensberg, mingled with the very real hatred and bitterness.